


Gareth

by MylittleFootballWorld



Series: The Vampire Series [15]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Oneshot, trigger warning just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 05:38:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5322500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MylittleFootballWorld/pseuds/MylittleFootballWorld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Gareth joined the family</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gareth

**Author's Note:**

> Herer comes the second of the last three parts of “The Vampire Series”. This was asked for by a very sweet Anon and I’m really happy about finally finishing it. I’m putting a trigger warning just in case and I’d like to humbly apologise for this not being exactly as good as it should be. I know it’s not exactly long but I promise the very last part will make up for this. And now, please enjoy❤️

Gareth ran a hand over his face tiredly. The British army had taken Madrid a while ago but the city still wasn't secured. Days were long and the work was hard. The city had been under another massive attack from the French and the British army had lost a lot of people. Gareth wasn't sure if he'd survive the next attack.  
His thoughts wandered back to Wales, his home country and to his girlfriend. They had parted in dispute. She didn't want him to go to war and didn't understand why it was important for him to go though he didn't have to. But Gareth had had a nagging feeling of uselessness for a while already and he'd hoped the war would give him a purpose. So he volunteered for military service when it became obvious that Napoleon and his army needed to be stopped.  
It had been four years since he'd last been home and by now he regretted his naivety. He should have known this war wouldn't take a year to win and then he'd get to go home. After the British army had set foot on Portuguese ground three years ago Gareth had spend every single day fighting for his life.  
He had naively imagined war to be different. Somehow he had forgotten it wasn't a faceless enemy he was fighting but other humans. People with families, hopes and dreams. People who just wanted to live just as much as he himself did. He hadn't imagined war to be this nerve-racking. He was no machine, he didn't know how to process everything he had seen. Suddenly he was scared of going home. Because how should he make anyone understand. How should he explain when he woke up screaming at night because he had another dream of people dropping dead like flies on the battlefield? How should he make someone, who had never seen or experienced war, understand what he had seen?  
Gareth shivered and blew in his hands to keep them warm. August was coming to an end and he could already feel the cold September brought. No good to think about home now. It would either make him anxious or homesick. The arrival of a fellow soldier shook him out of his thoughts. The Welshman frowned. There was no change of guard planned for another few hours.  
"Hey, what's -" "Grab your gun", the soldier panted a little out of breath, "the French are attacking."  
  
The city was a mess. Gareth had problems keeping track of who was British and who was French. Everywhere in the streets lay dead bodies and he was rather certain most of them belonged to the British army.  
He hissed in pain when a bullet graced his arm. He shot blindly into the dark hoping he'd hit someone and immediately got scared of his own thoughts. He shouldn't be wishing for another person's death or injury. The wound on his arm burned a little and he felt blood soaking the edges of his torn sleeve.  
More people approached him and the way they pointed their guns at him told Gareth they weren't British. He ran and hit behind a wall just before bullets pierced the air. Gareth heard them shout something in French but couldn't understand a word of what they were saying.  
"They're saying the British army is falling back", Gareth quickly pointed his gun at the man but shortly after recognized him as a fellow British soldier. "What do you mean, their falling back?" "I mean, we lost this battle", the man replied. "They're leaving us behind", the Welshman realized. His fellow soldier nodded, he opened his mouth to say something when suddenly someone spoke behind them in French.  
His fellow  soldier raised his hands: "They're taking us prisoners."  
  
Gareth lost track of time rather quickly. The French had taken all their prisoners and packed them together in Madrid's local prison. The cell's were small and there was not much space to move. The too hard bed took up most of the room. The Welshman shivered. He was really feeling the fall now and the French didn't provide their prisoners with blankets.  
The days were cold and dark and food was rare. The French made it quite clear that they didn't care whether their prisoners lived or died. Gareth wished they would just shoot them right away. Anything was better than being stuck in a small, cold cell listening to his fellow soldiers cough because a lot of them had gotten pneumonia due to the cold.  
Some of the other British prisoners had starved to death and Gareth couldn't help but feel a little jealous. They didn't have to endure this hopeless situation any longer.  
But while listening to the other soldiers coughing their lungs out was bad, the scream were worse. In the middle of the night he would wake up startled because of horrible, blood-curling screams. He had no idea where they came from or what was causing them but he had no desire to find out.  
This night the cold wouldn't allow him to sleep, so he sat on his bed and tried not to think. Had he known his life would change forever in this particular night he probably would have laughed.  
  
Raúl had no idea how it happened but somehow Alvaro had convinced him to go hunting with him in the middle of the night. Guti had considered to tag along but then discover they still had a bottle of Tequila mixed with blood under the bar and decided to stay home.  
Alvaro had mentioned a great source for victims he'd found and Raúl was rather interested to see what exactly his son had found. He was surprised when the younger Spaniard took him to Madrid's local prison.  
"What are we doing here?" "The French one the last battle against the British so now there are lots and lots of British prisoners caught there. Well, now there aren't that many left since I've had quite a lot of hunger lately but well. There's definitely still enough for both of us and some stocks", his son answered grinning . Raúl shook his head: "It's almost scary just how much you resemble José. Well, let's see what they got there."  
Arriving in the prison Raúl turned up his nose at the smell: "It smells of death." "The whole city reeks of it", Alvaro replied matter-of-factly and began moving past the cells, "ugh, too many dead already. That makes it a whole lot more boring. Can't they take proper care of their prisoners so I actually have something to feed of?"  
His father rolled his eyes and slowly followed the younger Spaniard down the corridor. He peeked into a few of the cells but didn't not pay much mind to the dead bodies. He didn't not stop walking until he felt a familiar pulling sensation. The black haired stopped in his tracks while his son kept walking, searching for something that could catch his attention.  
Raúl turned to the cell closest to him and in a far corner he saw a man. A man who's hear was connected with his own by a thin, blue line. "Alvaro", he called back, "come here. Forget the blood." Alvaro returned growling: "What is it?" His father broke the iron bars open: "Help me get your brother out of there."  
The younger one first disbelievingly stared at his father and then turned his head to the man that was staring at them wide-eyed pressing into the corner as if he was trying to become one with the wall: "Oh Guti will hate you for this." "You're acting like this is my choice."  
Raúl slowly entered the cell crouching down in front of the man who was, now that he saw him up close, more of a boy really: "What's your name?" The boy didn't he answer, he only stared at him. "I want to help you, I will get you out of here. But you have to let me." "Gareth", he whispered almost inaudibly, "you said I'm his brother what does that mean?" The Spaniard offered him a hand and helped him stand carefully: "Alvaro, come here. Support him, he's barely able to stand on his feet."  
"No, where are you taking me? I don't even know who you are!", the Welshman tried to struggle against Alvaro's grip but to no avail. "My name is Raúl, I will bring to my home. To my family. We will explain everything once we get there." Gareth was too weak to protest of fight them off as the two men helped him out of the prison. He saw the guards lying on the ground, dead and briefly wondered who these men were that got into the prison unseen and then saved his life upon meeting him for the first time.  
  
"I smell blood", Guti's cheerful voice greeted them as they entered the bar. "José, don't. We didn't bring him for your amusement." The blonde groaned knowing what came next and poured himself another blood tequila. Xabi came down the stairs rushing to Gareth and examining his body quickly: "He's slightly wounded and terribly malnourished. You either have to turn him now or we need to quickly start taking life saving measures." Raúl jerked his head towards the stairs and the Basque disappeared to get Iker.  
Alvaro sat Gareth down on one of the chairs and took Guti's glass from him. The blonde protested but his son had already drowned the glasses content. The Welshman stared at all of them with frightened eyes, not knowing what to think or how to react. Raúl kneeled down in front of him: "Welcome to my home, Gareth. If you want it to be, it will be your home from now on, too." The boy looked at him in confusion and the black haired continued to explain the circumstances to him.  
By now, Iker had come down into the bar from the upper level eyed the newcomer curiously. A small smile spread over his handsome features when Gareth uttered his agreement to join the family, knowing there was nothing waiting for him back in Wales and he'd be much better of living with the vampire family than dying in a very unfortunate accident two weeks later.  
Iker took him upstairs where he could lay down, patted his cheek and assured him he'd be as careful as possible before sinking his teeth into the soft skin of Gareth's neck.  
Downstairs Guti drowned his third drink since Raúl's return: "Is this what my life is damned to be now? This is not what I signed up for, Raúl. This is not what I signed up for." His boyfriend shook his head laughing: "You love him already." The blonde pouted. "No need to say it that loudly."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it! Comments are highly appreciated!


End file.
